


The Falcon

by TuppingLiberty



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, Napoleonic Era - Freeform, established Finn/Poe relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6295741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Intrigue, mysterious staff wielding strangers, plot twists, and cliff hangers: it's the Napoleonic Era AU no one asked for.  Finn is an Earl; Poe is his valet, and they've been lovers for a year. A nefarious plot threatens to break down everything they've built between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a prompt for a Modern AU Pride and Prejudice style FinnPoe story on tumblr, let that prompt rotate in my head for a few days, and this is the thing that came out. Note: This is not Modern AU, nor Pride and Prejudice, but it is FinnPoe so at least I got one of the three!
> 
> Also, an au in which everyone is still the races they are in real life, and no one bats an eye at a black Earl, but homosexuality is still taboo. :)

Charles Luther Finnegan, Earl of Jersey, more commonly known to his peers as Finn, sighed heavily as he walked into his bedroom. He must not have had a good time at the Chatterly affair, Poe thought, already putting a cheery smile on his own face and readying Finn’s night things. “Poe,” Finn called out, his voice annoyed.

“Here, sir.” Poe stepped away from his inconspicuous spot on the wall - Poe was well-trained at being inconspicuous - and walked over to close the door behind Finn. He held out his hands to help Finn shrug out of his suit coat, turning to hang the coat as Finn began to loosen the complicated cravat at his throat. He cursed when the piece of silk ended up in a knot.  Poe’s eyes smiled at he watched Finn. “Here, let me.” His nimble hands undid the knot and slid the silk from Finn’s neck.

“Why do you have to make them so complicated, Poe?” Finn said, frustration ringing in every word.

“Do you want to keep up with the latest style or not?  Why don’t you tell me what’s really wrong, instead of blaming my beautiful cravat craftsmanship?” Finn sat, and Poe helped him with his boot.

“They’re just so boring, balls.  And when they’re not, they’re disturbing.”

Poe pulled off Finn’s other boot and looked up at him. “And what’s so disturbing about wine and dancing, then?”

“It’s the marriage-minded mothers. I can’t go two feet in a ballroom without some young chit being thrust in front of me, looking for me to fill a spot on her dance card.  And heaven forbid I take a bit of fresh air or go to the card room. If I’m alone for a second someone always comes along, hoping to put me in a compromising position so that I must marry.”

Poe stood, brushing scuffs from the boots briefly before turning to put them in the closet. “You are the most eligible bachelor in London this season.  A little trickery is to be expected.”

Finn had become the most eligible bachelor in London the minute his father, the Earl, had died in a hunting accident last September. He was relatively young, extremely rich, and breathtakingly attractive, which meant he was infinitely more desirable than most of the other men - old, disgusting - on the marriage mart.

Poe felt Finn right behind him two seconds before the younger man’s hands slipped around his waist.  He marveled briefly at the fact that Finn was the only one in the world who could sneak up on him like this. Finn rested his head on Poe’s shoulder, murmuring in his ear, “And all the while, all I can think about is you, waiting for me back here, the person I really want.” Finn’s lips brushed below Poe’s ear, and he shivered, tried not to let himself be seduced by the words.  The fact was, even if what was between them wasn’t taboo, wasn’t for behind closed doors only, Finn could never marry a man of Poe’s station. Poe reminded himself that if he wanted what was best for Finn, he needed to encourage him to marry, produce an heir.

“I can hear that mind of yours thinking, Poe. Always calculating, my Poe.”  Finn’s hands were pulling Poe’s shirt from his pants now, sweeping along the textured skin of his chest, dipping lower and causing Poe to inhale quickly. “What do you think it will take to get that fast mind to just stop for a bit, hmmm?” The hum was against Poe’s pulse point and he shivered again.

“Keep doing that, Finn, and I’ll stop thinking.”

“Hmm, still capable of talking, nope, not there yet.” Finn began pulling Poe to the bed. The Earl quickly stripped him of his pants, and Poe worked on Finn’s shirt buttons, slowing down, ever mindful of the fact that anything he ripped, he’d have to sew back on.  “Thinking again, Poe,” Finn admonished, and pushed Poe back on the bed, lowering himself over the valet and capturing one of his nipples in his mouth, tugging lightly. Poe groaned, rubbing his hand over Finn’s hair, loving as always the contrast of his own tan skin against Finn’s dark brown. Finn began to lick and kiss his way lower, and by the time he had his mouth around Poe, he’d achieved his goal: Poe’s only coherent thought was _need._

Finn released Poe, eyes ravaging over the valet’s lithe body, hand replacing his mouth so he could watch Poe thrust magnificently. “There you are. My favorite Poe. Mindless Poe” He climbed back up, holding himself up on strong arms over Poe.  “Turn around,” he whispered. Poe bit his lip and complied.

Later, Poe waited until he’d heard Finn fall asleep, then extracted himself quietly from the bed.  What was between Finn and Poe was no secret to any of the other servants, but it wouldn’t do to be caught by the Countess.  Poe had been Finn’s valet for six years, hired upon Finn leaving Eton and entering Cambridge.  He was only three years older than Finn, so they’d clicked rather well.  He’d become Finn’s advisor, his confidant, and finally, one glorious midnight about a year ago, his lover. In the eyes of society it was wrong, it was a sin, so they operated very carefully, only allowing themselves to show affection in this bedroom, when the door was closed and locked, and everyone else was abed.

Poe had some practice in maintaining illusions, to be sure, considering, he thought sardonically, the fact that he was also a spy for the British Crown. Finn didn’t know, could never know, and that was why it was best to get him settled with a wife, some children.  He slipped back into his own quarters, dressed in his black outfit, and slipped back out again, leaving the house in the dead of night.  He had a meet by the docks, and now he had to hurry because he’d indulged himself in Finn.  Couldn’t resist indulging himself in Finn.

Poe palmed a knife, preferring it to the gun he carried when he was going in to supposedly friendly situations. This was a contact he’d made before, but one could never be too careful, by the docks.  He snuffed out the street lamp, then leaned on the alley wall, waiting for his contact to notice the signal.  He sensed the second he wasn’t alone in the alley anymore. “What’ve you got, Fingers?”

The man he’d eloquently dubbed ‘Fingers’ because honestly, they were long, spindly things, stepped out of the shadows and wrinkled his nose. “Why’d I have to have such a name, ya prick?  And I have to call you Falcon. Jaysus.”

Poe grinned, teeth glowing ferally in the dark, and Fingers shuddered a bit. The Falcon was a nice man - as long as one stayed on his good side.  He’d seen what happened to those who ended up on the Falcon’s bad side. “We’ve got another spy, I think. Someone in the gentry’s selling secrets to Napoleon. Only figured it out recently, caught a glimpse of the cove’s carriage as it rolled away from the docks.  Idiot didn’t cover his crest.”

Poe’s eyes sharpened. “What did the crest look like?”  He’d been on the heels of a spy among the wealthy class for months, but this was the first time one of his contacts had brought him anything tangible.

Fingers gulped. “Now, I didn’t see it long, Falcon, so it’s not real clear like, but I drew it for you as best I could.” He offered a scrap of paper out in his long hands, and Poe took it, slipping his knife back into a safe place and offering the man a small bag of coins.  He studied the drawing, surprised briefly at the skill shown there, but Fingers had been right, it wasn’t much.  Some type of bird, Poe couldn’t really tell the breed, and a partial word, “PRI.” Part of a Latin family motto?  Part of a name?  It was impossible to guess.

“Thanks, Fingers. Anything else about this rich cove, that’s priority.  If you see this carriage down here again, send for me immediately.”

“Of course, Falcon.” Fingers scurried away to spend his shiny new coins at the local tavern.

Poe was continuing to study the scrap of paper when the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he palmed his knife again.  He was no longer alone in the alley, and this time he didn’t think it was friendly.

The attacker came from behind, attempting to knock Poe’s feet out from under him with a large stick. Poe’s eyes widened at the attack; this person was trained, not some simple footpad looking to lighten Poe’s pockets. He caught himself before falling over, reaching out to grab his attacker before they could swing the stick around again. The hooded figure twisted out of Poe’s grasp, landing a blow on Poe’s stomach in the process, which knocked the wind out of Poe.  This time, Poe grabbed the stick and wrestled it away from the attacker, throwing it into the street outside of the alley. The man in the hood turned to run, and Poe grabbed him firmly from behind, pulling the knife from his sleeve and holding it to the throat of his attacker, preparing to flip the hood back. The other man was wily, though, and slipped out of his grasp, slamming a foot down on Poe’s. As Poe reeled from the blow, he caught a glimpse of the hood falling before his attacker ran down the foggy street, revealing long brown hair pulled back in a bun, and an elfin face.  A _female_ face. Poe glanced down at his empty hands, then searched the alleyway.  A female who'd managed to steal the one clue he had in his case. “Christ,” Poe cursed, and began to limp home, hand over his stomach.  How in Hell was he going to explain _this_ to Finn?


	2. Cherchez la Femme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Poe are both in search of a woman - for different reasons, of course.

Poe rested his boot up on the chaise to ease the ache, not a polite gesture to be sure, but the door to Finn’s study was closed and he felt minutely secure. It was abnormal for a valet to be in his master’s study in probably any household but this one. Poe had long since established himself also as Finn’s secretary and runner, his right-hand man. It gave him a convenient excuse to be found in all parts of the city, one of the reasons the War Department had recruited him. Poe Dameron liked to flatter himself handsome, Finn certainly thought so after all, but even a handsome servant could navigate throughout London without ever being really seen by the gentry.

“How did you hurt your foot, again?” Finn asked from his desk, setting down his newspaper and frowning at the older man.

“Stupid, horse trampled right over it in the park.” Poe looked down at his own paper, where he realized he'd written the letters PRI over and over again as if doing so would magically reveal their meaning. Lying to Finn was second nature at this point, and he mentally shrugged off the annoying little feeling of guilt. Finn simply _could not_ know about Poe’s second job. There was no argument to be made.

“Is Mr. Brown allowing you enough time off your feet?” Finn asked, still frowning, referring to the household steward who managed all of the servants.

Poe smirked inwardly at the thought of Seb, or Mr. Brown, _allowing_ Poe to do anything. He'd long since established the upper hand in that relationship. Seb was fine with both whatever Finn and Poe did in the bedroom and Poe’s strange comings and goings as long as Poe kept him supplied with French wine. “Of course, Finn.”

Poe heard the door open and quickly assumed a more proper position, sitting up straight and ready with paper, ink, and quill, looking ever the attentive secretary.  The Countess swept in, pale yellow gown looking elegant against her dark skin, hair already done up for the day. Finn and Poe stood immediately, Poe ignoring the sharp pain in his boot. She sat in the chair before Finn’s desk, giving them leave to sit as well. She set her sharp, intelligent gaze directly on Finn, ignoring Poe as she often did.

They began to speak of balls and races and other events that she expected Finn to attend, and Poe gave himself leave to let his mind wander to his case, and the girl. The girl! Who was she? Who in their right mind would allow such a small slip of a person, let alone a _girl,_ study the deadly arts?

“There's a girl.” The Countess’ words broke into Poe’s thoughts. “A young woman I'd like you to meet. She is most accomplished, and from good stock.” Being from “good stock” was the first priority on the Countess’ list for finding a wife for Finn. “Met her at my modiste yesterday afternoon. A most proper young woman. She just got back from a grand tour of the Continent, I believe. So intelligent.”

Finn looked uncomfortable. “And where will I be meeting this girl?”

“She dropped that she'll be attending the Breckenridge gala this evening. As you will be too, I promised I'd introduce you. Reylinda Nelson, some distant cousin of our beloved Admiral, God rest his soul. Such good stock.”

Finn nodded, standing again with Poe as his mother swept out, and Poe moved to close the door behind her. He turned back to Finn with an eyebrow raised. “ _Reylinda.”_ It was the perfect thing to break Finn from his brood before he could get too far sunk in it, and Poe knew it.

Finn grinned. “Indeed. What a name. And what a lineage.” He heaved a sigh, leaning back in his office chair. “Remind me why I have to do this again.”

Poe leaned a hip on Finn’s desk, ignoring, for the moment, the look of interest in the younger man’s eyes at his proximity and position. “Not here, Finn,” he admonished lightly. “You must get married and produce an heir and spare, or your sweet dragon of a mother will haunt you for the rest of your days for letting the Jersey title fall into the hands of your beef witted cousin.”

“The Countess is going to outlive us all.”

“Haunting need not be done from the afterlife.”

“Touché.” He reached for Poe, but Poe nipped out of the way before Finn could pull him into his lap.

“Didn't get enough last night?” Poe asked he sat back down on the chaise and elevated his foot.

The look Finn gave him made him shiver. “Never.”

Poe blushed, and looked down at his paper again, trying to discourage Finn. Finn’s safety, whether physical or of his reputation, was paramount to Poe. There was no way he was going to let Finn ruin his future now, and that meant not getting sloppy on their rules, the boundaries they'd set for themselves. Finn seemed to understand, because Poe heard him pick up his paper once more.

While Finn was occupied with the Breckenridge gala later that night, Poe raced around town making inquiries about the mysterious woman among all of his usual contacts. He spread her description so much, he knew she'd have no choice but to seek The Falcon out, and soon. Poe vowed to be ready for whatever trap she tried to set for him this time.

He was ready in Finn’s room by the time Finn returned, waiting to help the Earl with his clothing. Poe noticed right away that Finn’s countenance was as positive as Poe had ever seen it after a dreaded ball.

“Poe, she's beautiful.”

“The venerable Miss Nelson, I presume?” Poe held his feelings in, like any good servant spy worth his salt. But he felt the pang in his heart at the special voice Finn normally reserved for him.

“Yes. Rey. She bade me leave to call her that tonight after our second dance.”

“Oh, that is a much better name than Reylinda.” Poe smoothed wrinkles from the suit coat. “Second dance, you say? Are you engaged yet?” The comment came out more snidely than he'd intended, and he winced.

He felt Finn’s hand on his shoulder, but refused to turn. “Don't, I'm playing the fool. I'm the first one to remind you of your obligations. Now that they're so close at hand, I just need to adjust, that's all.”

Finn's other arm wrapped around his middle, and he was pulled into Finn’s warm body. “We do what we must, aren't you always telling me? At least with a charming girl like Rey, I might enjoy myself in the process. But it won't change how I feel about you.”

Poe allowed himself two more seconds of melancholy before he turned, smile bright, hurt repressed. “Of course you're right. Now tell me, do you plan to save yourself for your wedding night?”

Finn laughed, pulling Poe to him again. “I see no compelling reason to do so,” he sighed as he took Poe’s mouth with his.

He wasn't drinking because he was going to lose Finn, Poe reasoned. Christ, he was still warm from Finn’s bed, still sore in the most pleasant way. He was drinking to blend in, drinking to make some new contacts in his pursuit of the girl. _The girl,_ he scoffed. Everyone was in pursuit of a girl. Cherchez la femme. He knocked back another shot of whiskey. And if, in pursuit of the girl, he got a little drunk, well, so be it. So cocking be it.

The bartender cut him off, knowing it could only be bad for the Falcon to be so out of his wits in this part of town, and Poe stumbled out of the tavern, limping from drink and his cocking broken toe from _the girl._ When he heard footsteps behind him, he grinned savagely and raised his fists, completely game for a fight, and totally forgetting his training beyond common fisticuffs.

“I don't think that's a good idea right now, Falcon.” The hooded figure emerged from the shadows, and Poe scoffed.

“Of _course_ it's you. Well, I planned to be more prepared for our next fight, but this will have to do.” He swayed precipitously, but kept his fists raised. “All I ask is that you don't hurt this pretty face.”

The female snorted, unladylike. “It would be too easy right now. Would you believe me if I told you I'm on your side?”

“Actually,” Poe said, still in fighting stance, “Do what you will to my face, I can come up with some excuse. Just leave me alive, so I can make sure he's okay. Just need to see him through this, make sure he'll make it, because I love him.” Poe collapsed against the building in surrender, lowering his hands and opening them as if in supplication. “Just leave me alive.” Poe’s legs gave out and he slid down the wall, feeling tears prickle his eyes.

“This is the greatest spy this side of the Channel? Your reputation not only precedes you, Falcon, it exceeds you.” The hooded girl crouched down to Poe’s level.

“No one calls me the greatest spy on this side of the Channel, except for maybe the gossip rags. Any chance you’d just be on your way, leave me alone for the night?”

“Not a single one. You're far too vulnerable here. Let me take you home.”

Poe thought of the cold servant quarters waiting for him at the Finnegan town house, and thought of his ultimate goal to protect Finn, and shook his head. “Even if  you're not here to kill me, I can't trust you with my secrets.”

“Except the one about how you're currently fighting with your lover.”

Poe's head snapped up. “How did you know?”

“I'm beginning to think _I'm_ the best spy this side of the Channel.” A ghost of a smile played around her lips, the only part of her that was really visible under the shadow of the hood.

“Oh right, my breakdown. Well, I'm not fighting with him. I'm just not allowed to have him anymore, so don't I deserve a good drunk?”

“Maybe, if you didn't make it so easy to find you, Falcon.” She glanced around nervously. “If I found you, who else could?”

Poe laughed, loud enough that she glanced around again, agitated. “I intended for you to find me, Little Red Riding Hood, or you wouldn’t’ve. I am capable of making a plan. Just, not tonight.”

“Well if I can't take you home, I can take you someplace safe.” She stood and held a hand out.

Poe considered it, but she was right, it was unsafe to be out here and there was no way in Hell he was leading her to Finn, so he clasped her hand and let her haul him to his feet. “Where's your big stick tonight?”

“Staff,” she corrected through gritted teeth.

Poe snorted. “I know, I just wanted to annoy you, Red.”

She began hauling him by the elbow through the streets. “Believe me, you've succeeded.”

She stopped in front of a nondescript staircase, leading off the street. Poe realized they were at the 9th Street safe house, and gave Red an assessing look. “Well, I guess if you know about this place, I should either trust you, or bend over and kiss my ass goodbye because Napoleon knows this much.”

“Come on,” she said, embarrassment at his language showing in her voice.

“Hmmm, delicate sensibilities. Are you another gentry spy? Damn surprised the War Department would hire a girl, but a girl from the Ton? Unbelievable.” Poe waited as she found the key, unlocked the door to the tiny room, then he collapsed on the bed gratefully.

“All you need to know is that I want to find the gentry spy as much as you do,” she said quietly.

Poe closed his eyes. “Don't think that's possible,” he whispered, drifting off. As he fell asleep, he swore he felt her sweep aside his rakish curls and brush a kiss across his forehead.

In the morning, he awoke with regret and a hangover the size of the Thames. There was a letter beside his bed, and when he sat up, pausing to let his stomach settle, he reached for it. The handwriting was neat and ladylike.

_Falcon,_

_I hope that the morning finds you better able to deal with your personal issues. I hope we can form a partnership, you and I. Even in my male disguise, you are able to search farther and wider than I for clues. Finding the gentry spy is paramount, and I've come to the conclusion that our heads would work better together than separately. As a show of goodwill, I've included the partial crest drawing I stole from you. I've made a copy for myself, so you may have the original back. And, I've included how to contact me. Please do so as soon as you are able._

_Regards, Red_

Poe smirked at the use of the nickname he'd given her, then ran a thumb over the drawing Fingers had given him. He supposed he could learn to have a partner in this affair.

The House of Jersey had planned a dinner party the following week on short notice. Invitations soon became quite desirable, as it was rumored the Earl would be announcing his engagement. Poe, who knew the rumors for fact, worked twice as hard to find the spy, but even with both he and Red working together, their search had proven fruitless so far. Well, not entirely fruitless. He found he enjoyed working with Red. She was sharp as a fox, and cautious where he was enthusiastic. They played well off of each other. She helped ease the ache of Finn’s impending engagement, not that she knew he was Finn’s servant.

Poe finished tying the cravat around Finn’s throat, then stepped back to admire the overall effect one more time. “I think you'll do. I imagine everyone will have eyes on the beautiful, stunning, clever Rey Nelson anyway,” Poe finished, tossing Finn’s descriptors of the young woman back at him.

Finn nodded, suddenly looking contemplative. “Poe, when this happens, when I'm married, are you going to stop our night visits?”

Poe double checked that the door was closed and locked before answering. He cupped Finn’s strong jaw in his hand, staring into his eyes. “I will always be here for you, no matter what you need. But I imagine you'll be too busy getting that heir to bother with me.”

Finn sputtered, protesting, “You're not just...Poe, you must know that you're not just some piece of fluff I keep to amuse myself, like other men of the Ton do with their mistresses. I love you.”

Poe rested his forehead against Finn’s. “I love you too.” He cursed, then captured Finn’s mouth in a rough kiss. When he was finished, he pulled back and inspected Finn one more time, readjusting the cravat. And because he loved Finn, he repeated, “I'm here to be whatever you need me to be.”

“And what do you get out of such a relationship?”

Poe thought of his spying, of Red. “More than you think, Finnegan. I promise.” He blew out a breath. “Now go, announce the engagement, get married, live happily ever after.” He placed one more kiss on Finn’s cheek, then turned and began tidying the bedroom.

Poe stationed himself in Finn’s office during the party. House parties always made him nervous, and if anyone wanted to come looking for information on Finn’s investments or holdings, or to steal precious Jersey heirlooms, well, they'd have to get by Poe first. How many times had he used the cover of a house party to look for his gentry spy? He could protect Finn even when Finn wasn't in the room. To amuse himself, he pulled down the Countess’ favored peerage book, continuing to search for families with the letters PRI in their name. When he heard the door open, he quickly tucked himself in the shadow of the bookcase and listened intently.

A female giggle. “Isn't it better, to be away from the crush?” Finn’s voice. “I truly dislike parties, you know.”

“I'm not much a fan of them either,” the female replied, and Poe decided he should reveal himself before this got too much farther.

He swung out from around the bookcase, explanation for why he was in Finn’s study and why he had been hiding ready on his lips, when he got his first glance at who he presumed was his lover’s new fiancee. “Re-” he cut himself off from saying 'Red' at the last second, as the female spy’s eyes widened at the sight of him. “Reylinda Nelson, yes?”

“Poe? Protecting my things again? You could have gone to bed hours ago.” And that easy familiarity in Finn’s voice was so obvious to Poe, and he knew it would be just as obvious to the clever-as-a-fox Red, or Rey, Poe corrected himself. And yes, she was looking back and forth between Finn and Poe, putting it all together, and Finn was moving forward to give introductions, and a cold sweat had broken out on Poe’s temple at feeling utterly exposed to this woman. This woman who had seemingly connived her way into Finn’s arms. “Rey, this is my valet, my secretary, my invaluable servant, Poe Dameron. Poe, my newly betrothed, Miss Rey Nelson.”

Rey offered her hand automatically, and Poe took it, genuflecting over it and brushing his lips over her knuckles. “Charmed,” Poe said, voice cold.

“Of course,” Rey replied, tone similarly glacial.

 _Cherchez la femme,_ indeed _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Dramatic voiceover* Tune in next time for another installment of .... The Falcon and the Mysterious Stranger!
> 
> PS - I haven't had time to, but I do plan on fleshing Finn's character out more in the future, I promise he's not just a spoiled Earl rich kid. :)


	3. Imperatum Primum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets revealed, Poe and Rey need to have a talk, with weapons drawn.

“Normally you’ve gotten out of my bed by now, not that I wish you to,” Finn said, brushing Poe’s sweaty curls off of his forehead.

Poe’s eyes were still practically blind, and he couldn’t really form coherent words, but he tried. “Normally you don’t make me come twice. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

Finn chuckled, and gathered Poe to his bare chest, kissed him on the forehead. “I felt especially inspired tonight.”

Poe tried not to think about the fact that he had left Finn alone with Rey in the library that night, fighting against his protective instincts upon learning her identity, tried not to assume that she was the source of Finn’s inspiration considering Finn had been on him the minute he’d closed and locked the bedroom door. He allowed himself to nestle further into Finn’s embrace for a few more minutes, then forced himself to leave the bed despite Finn’s protests. He needed to deal with the Red/Rey problem.

Finn hummed appreciatively when Poe bent over to retrieve his pants. Poe looked over his shoulder, and the hum turned into a groan. “You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?” He managed.

“I think I have some idea, given the circumstances.” Poe pulled up his pants, buttoning them haphazardly so they hung low on his hips, because maybe, just maybe, he wanted to tease Finn a little.  Finn’s eyes were still hot on his figure as he shrugged into the white shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.

“Christ, Poe.”

Poe flashed a grin at him. It really was too fun. He fastidiously buttoned the shirt, laughing quietly when Finn groaned again in disappointment. His laugh made Finn’s eyes sharpen, and he threw off the covers, rising and moving toward Poe again. Poe’s fingers had paused on the buttons about halfway up, and now Finn covered them with his hands, pulling them away, and pulling Poe closer.  He swept a hand behind Poe’s head and brought Poe’s mouth to his, taking his lips none too gently. Poe grabbed Finn’s bare hips and leaned into the embrace, already warm blood going hot again. And then, Finn was pulling away, going for his own pants. “Two can play the tease, Poe.” He turned back to Poe and grinned, cupping Poe’s chin. “But you look so sweetly used already, and I know you would insist on our rules anyway, that I cannot bring myself to keep you here, and I cannot bring myself to go back to bed without you next to me. Perhaps perusing my account books will take you off my mind.”  He ran a thumb over Poe’s lips, and the older man pursed his lips to press a kiss there.

“It’s for the best,” Poe murmured, and he knew that Finn understood he didn’t just mean this evening but Finn’s impending lifestyle change via marriage. Of course, Finn didn’t know that he was engaged to a spy, one who’s game Poe planned to figure out, immediately.

“You always say that, but I don’t think it’s correct.”  As if he couldn’t bear to talk about it any longer, Finn pulled on a shirt of his own and swept out of the bedroom. Poe finished dressing quickly, and, checking that he could still see light beneath Finn’s study door, slipped out the town house through the back gardens to settle things with Rey once and for all.

“Falcon.” Rey nodded at him succinctly over the marble tomb, staff held firmly in her hands in a defensive position.

“Red. Although I suppose we can dispense with the pseudonyms, can’t we?” Poe’s knife flashed in the moonlight, as if the expanse of marble between them wouldn’t stop him.

The crypt, neglected by whichever family owned it, if there were any members even still alive, had served as their meeting place over the last few weeks.  Now Poe wondered if it would serve as their dueling grounds.

“Any chance we can reason this out like adults?” Rey asked, and Poe could see that her grip on her staff was tight enough to cause white knuckles.

“Sure, let us give that a try. Why did you choose Finn?” _‘Do you love him like I love him?’_ passed through his mind unsaid.

“I needed to find a husband, one high up in polite society, to serve as a cover for my … activities. And because that's what I was raised to do, marry. It's the only worth I bring to my family.” She sounded bitter, and Poe didn't blame her.

Poe sensed she was telling the truth, and appreciated it, even as his protective nature roared at the thought of Finn being used in any way, shape, or form. “And Finn, specifically?”

Rey shrugged delicately. “He’s handsome, and kind. I wasn’t raised to ever expect such characteristics from my future husband.”

“You’re going to end this sham of an engagement.  I won’t see Finn used in such a way,” Poe growled.

“You mean, in the same way you use him?  Are you the only privileged spy that gets to use the Earl of Jersey as cover?”

“ _Yes, dammit._ ”

Rey smiled sardonically. “And are you the only spy that gets to use that cover to have Finn in bed?”

Twin surges of rage and guilt flooded Poe, and he chose to ride the wave of rage, suppressing the guilt. “No one gets to 'have Finn' in bed.  Finn makes his own choices.” He started to advance on her, but she held her hand up, and the innate gentleman inside him stopped.

“I'll apologize for what might have seemed like a slight on Finn’s honor. Lord knows why men are so concerned with that nonsense. Let me say, though, that I’m prepared to give Finn an heir, more. If that’s what he _chooses_. He’s charming, and I think, given time, we could build something between us. Or we could have, if there wasn’t a certain handsome servant in the way.” She paused, lowering her staff. “I have to admit, my feminine pride is a little stung. I thought he truly enjoyed my company. We kissed when I said yes to his proposal.” She shrugged again. “It felt real, but then again, I don’t have a lot of experience with that type of thing.  If I call it off now, at least I will have been saved the embarrassment of my husband not finding me attractive.”  She leaned against the tomb.

The guilt flared up again, and Poe leaned against the tomb, too, in defeat. “I have been...encouraging him to find a wife, to produce an heir. If it soothes you at all, he thinks very highly of you. I...I’m not sure if he’s inclined that way like I am-”

Rey’s eyes widened. “You also...prefer women? Both?”

“I prefer Finn,” Poe declared with a sense of finality. “As I was saying, I never saw him show real interest in a female throughout his years at Cambridge or here, and then I was distracting him… Until you. The beautiful Rey. Over these last few weeks I have felt you in that bedroom, I have felt your presence between us.”

Poe could see Rey blush in the dark of the crypt. “That is a singularly strange concept to think about.”

“That being said, I can’t stand by and watch you - us - use Finn this way. We need to tell him.” Guilt was fully riding Poe now.

Rey lifted her brows in surprise. “Tell him? And how do you suppose we do that?  ‘Oh, hello Finn, let’s discuss wedding details, and by the by, I’m a spy for the British Crown. And your best friend and lover?  Also a spy. But at least we're on the proper side, fighting the good fight for God and Country.  Sorry about the utter sense of betrayal you're probably feeling right now.’”

Poe let out a short mirthless laugh. “Imagine him finding out by himself.”

Rey quieted, the thought making her frown. “He doesn’t deserve that, you’re right.  So, how do you propose we tell him?”

“Why do I have to come up with all of the ideas in this partnership? Can’t you insist on a long engagement so we can figure it out?  Tell him you want to get to know him better, without the pressure of him being the most eligible bachelor?” Rey leaned her head against her staff in silence. Poe continued. “You do still want to marry him, even if I’m in the picture?”

It was Rey’s turn to laugh without humor. “First, you’re angry with me for seducing your lover with feminine wiles so I can use him as cover, and now you’re worried I will refuse him? I suppose I knew the second time we met that love made you foolish, but you just keep proving it again and again.”

“Better to love than remain aloof, Red. Will you be able to live with the knowledge that your husband loved me first?” Poe paused. “Assuming that he’ll still talk to either of us after we tell him, of course.”

“I don’t know if whatever Finn and I will have even needs to be love. My parents certainly weren’t a love match.  That’s not how things are done in my rung of society, as you should well know, and I’m not some lovesick girl fresh out of the schoolroom with fairy tales in her head.” Rey took a breath, then looked at Poe with sad eyes, and Poe couldn’t help but wanting to disagree with her assessment because she looked so young, so vulnerable in the moonlight. “But, yes, I would be willing to share him.”

 _Share_ him?  Share Finn?  All of a sudden, hope sprang into Poe’s heart. The moment he’d seen Rey in the study with Finn, a piece of his mind had thought, ‘Well, that’s it, then. It was wonderful, life-changing, while it lasted.’ But to share Finn, to have Finn’s wife willingly acknowledge and allow… He had to tamp down on the thoughts before he got too excited.

“So, I’ll ask Finn for a long engagement, while we craft a plan to tell him in a way that won’t get both of us kicked to the curb, _and_ we catch the gentry spy.”

“When you put it that way, sounds easy enough,” Poe said, laughing genuinely this time and slinging an arm around Rey. She looked a little shocked at the touch, unmarried ladies of the Ton weren’t really used to being touched by men, after all, but she relaxed into it quickly.

“Now, how do you propose we start?” Rey asked.

“I think I can help with that.” Finn’s voice echoed from the doorway of the tomb, as his large figure blocked out most of the streaming moonlight.

Rey and Poe both jumped up from their casual stance against the tomb. Poe was the first to get his wits about him. “Finn, I… We…” Okay, so maybe he didn’t really have his wits about him.

Finn stepped further into the tomb, and with the three of them, all of a sudden it seemed very crowded. “We indeed. Where to start with the ‘we.’ We could start with how you two know each other, because you certainly didn’t reveal that yet. Or we could start with how long you’ve been spies for the British Crown.  Or we could start with how long you planned to keep this from me, either one of you.”  Finn’s voice was calm, cold, his anger having taken on the form of an icy razor sharp knife.

Poe knew his pleading must have shown in his eyes, but he couldn’t beg forgiveness until he told Finn the whole truth of it. “You were never to know.”

Finn turned to him, dismissing, for the moment, Rey and her male garb and her large staff. “And is it true, what she implied earlier?  Did you only take me to bed to provide cover for your little...your little side job?”

Rey gasped, because of course _she_ knew the extent to which Poe loved Finn. At the moment, Poe felt like maybe Rey was the only person to fully know and understand him as a person. Poe reached out for Finn, but Finn took a step back, and Poe let his hands fall, impotent. “You have every right not to believe me, Finn, but there was never any subterfuge between us.  What we have, I have worked very hard to keep separate from my espionage.” Poe looked into Finn’s eyes, willing him again to understand. “Because you’re my single greatest weakness, and I would allow myself to be killed before anyone found out about us and used the knowledge against me. Used you against me. I love you more than my own well being, Finn.” Poe collapsed against the tomb again, knees weak.

Finn considered this, and there was a resounding silence in the crypt for minutes. He ended it, not by responding to Poe, but by turning to Rey. “It seems that you and I have more in common that I thought when I offered for your hand.”

Rey raised a brow. Finn could be clever, though not as clever as she, Poe knew. “Pray do not tell me you are going to reveal yourself a spy, too.”

Finn laughed, though it wasn’t a particularly happy sound, and Poe winced to hear it. “No, rather I meant that we’ve both got secrets that would have awkward, nasty-’

“Try life-threatening,” Poe muttered, and Finn looked his way, although he didn’t glare, and Poe felt like maybe that was an improvement.

“-Consequences if they were found out, that can be helped by a marriage,” Finn finished.

Rey fingered her staff methodically. “So, you want to go forward with the engagement?”

At Finn’s nod, Poe stood straight again. “Hold for a second, Finn. If you’re still willing to marry her then-”

“Why won’t I forgive you right away?” Finn interrupted. “The ones we love the best always manage to find the perfect place to stick the knife, Poe.”

The tiny acknowledgement of Finn’s love had hope springing in Poe. “Right away?  But you do plan to forgive me?”

“I imagine I will, Poe, as soon as you stop treating me as some type of milksop who can’t protect himself.” Finn reached out to cup Poe’s chin, in a move eerily similar to the one he had done an hour ago, in his bedroom. “While your reasoning for keeping your secret was sweet, my love, it was also extremely patronizing. You know I’m a good shot, you know I’m trained in pugilism, and you’ve seen my body.” Out of the corner of his eye, Poe saw Rey blush and look down. “And you know I’m good at keeping secrets. And if it came to it, I would never allow anyone to use me to hurt you.” Finn’s eyes were burning into his now, and the repeated vow couldn’t have been clearer if they’d sworn it in front of a priest. He held the intense look for a few more seconds, before one side of his mouth tipped up. “Besides, are you saying I don’t measure up to a girl?”

“Woman,” both Rey and Poe interjected.  Poe blushed. “You haven’t seen her fight.  She broke my toe.”

Finn’s eyes narrowed. “And the black eye a few months ago, that wasn’t Cook hitting you with a frying pan accidentally.”

Poe grinned. “Since I want to be completely honest with you, no, I am far less clumsy than I have led you to believe.”

Poe let out a gasp of surprise when Finn suddenly gathered him in his arms. “And if you had been caught, or compromised, would you have just never returned to my house?  I imagine King George himself, or whomever you report to, would never have contacted me. I would never have known what happened to you, just assumed you grew tired of me and ran away.” Poe felt Finn’s desperate whisper, and clutched the younger man tightly, his heart breaking.

“I’m sorry, Finn. I have done everything in my power to make sure that eventuality comes to naught.”

“Except get publicly drunk the night Finn met me,” Rey pointed out, and Poe lifted his head to glare in her direction.  She shrugged. “I thought it worth mentioning.”

At the sound of Rey’s voice, Finn had broken his embrace with Poe, looking at the two of them simultaneously. “Now, who’s going to fill me in on what you’re doing?”

Poe and Rey shared a brief glance, both nodding at each other. Rey pulled out a journal. “We’re searching for one of Napoleon’s spies among the Ton,” Rey began.

Finn arched a brow in surprise. “How did I ever think the ballroom dull, when all of these spies are running about?”

“Considering the secrecy among families and access to private households, it makes perfect sense for a spy to situate himself in the aristocracy,” Poe said.

Rey smiled ruefully. “I certainly thought so.” She turned to Finn. “So far, we have found infuriatingly little on the spy, and meanwhile, he continues to pass information across the Channel, and good English men are dying.”

Poe took the journal from Rey, opening it to the the crest Fingers had drawn. “This is our most concrete piece of evidence,” he said, holding the book out for Finn to see. “I know it’s not much, but I’ve been-”

“I know this symbol,” Finn said, looking up at them in wonder and excitement. “I’ve seen it before. Imperatum Primum.”

“You’re the one who went to Cambridge, not me.  What does it mean?” Poe said, annoyed and amazed at the same time.

“First Command,” replied Rey, causing both men to look at her. She blushed prettily. “My father allowed me to indulge … unusual subjects for a lady. I learned Latin and Greek.”

Finn smiled at her appreciatively. “And your translation is close, but I happen to know the other name they call themselves: First Order. It’s an extremely exclusive gentlemen’s club. I’ve seen some young men wearing this crest on a signet ring.”

Poe looked at Finn, and saw in his face only the excitement of the hunt.  He couldn’t blame Finn, because he felt that same excitement in his very soul.


	4. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe agrees to take Finn on a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a shorter chapter, a necessary middle chapter.

“Please deliver this message to my master, The Earl of Jersey,” Poe told the liveried footman standing at the entrance of the St. James residence. Behind the man, Poe could hear the tinkling glasses and quiet laughter that signaled a rout in the eyes of the Ton.

“Of course. Wait here,” the guard said sternly, nodding to his partner to watch Poe as if Poe was going to all of a sudden make a run for the champagne and canapés table. Poe stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He'd seen the St. James residence from the inside already, of course, last month, in his pursuit of the gentry spy.

Poe was wondering whether he should attempt some small talk with the second footman, just to keep see if his charm was still sharp, when the door opened, and Finn walked through.

“Sir,” greeted Poe, “I'm so sorry to disturb the party, but I fear there is a small emergency at home.” Poe eyed the footmen, who were plainly eavesdropping. He smiled grimly at them. “You know how it is, so hard to find good staff.” Their eyes widened a bit, and they deliberately turned away from Poe and Finn as they walked down the stairs.

There was no emergency, obviously. Poe had grudgingly agreed to take Finn along for his espionage activities that evening. Since it was just reconnaissance, he felt comfortable letting Finn get a little experience.

Poe indicated a nondescript hired coach, unmarked, and held the door open for Finn to enter. Finn got in halfway, then paused. “Oh, it's you.”

Poe hurried in behind Finn to see who he was talking to, since he'd left the carriage completely empty. Tucked into the corner, Rey sat in her ball regalia, an elegant hood obscuring her face. Poe felt only relief.

“Going somewhere without me, boys?”

“Obviously not anymore, Red. It's simply recon, you needn't have bothered,” Poe answered.

“I just danced with you in the ball ten minutes ago, how…?” Finn trailed off, staring at Rey in awe.

“I told you she was good.” Poe smirked at his lover.

“So, are you headed to Imperatum Primum?”

Poe laid his arm around Rey’s shoulders, earning an arched brow from Finn. “I do like that about you, Red. No need to waste time explaining everything to you.”

“Why do you call her Red? How did you come to be on such … familiar terms with Rey?” Finn asked, indicating Poe’s arm, which Rey was currently extracting herself from under. Poe wasn’t quite sure what had compelled him to touch Rey again, and so intimately, and he let her go easily.

Rey smirked back at Poe. “Reconnaissance is an excellent time for such stories. Would you like to explain how I broke your foot, or shall I?”

“You think I'm going to be ashamed, Red, but since we're on the same side now, I know how proud I should be to count you as an ally from first hand experience.” Rey blushed, and Poe could tell Finn was reaching the end of his patience, so he related the story. By the time he was finished, the hired coach had arrived at the gentlemen’s club.

“Now, our goal tonight is to watch the front door and see if Finn recognizes any patrons,” Poe said, holding up a paper and quill to write names down. “As you can see, I’ve come prepared.”

“You have always been an excellent secretary,” Finn replied dryly.

They waited but unfortunately the gentlemen’s club did not seem to be very active at the moment, and they saw no one enter or leave the building. Poe gave Finn some credit: the man lasted about twice as long as Poe had bet himself he would in his mind.  They’d been watching in silence for about a half hour before Finn finally broke, asking, “Is it always like this?”

Poe exchanged a glance with Rey, both smiling. “The gossip rags make it sound so much more exciting, no?”

Finn sat back, eyeing both of them, before looking out the window again. “How did you start?”

It wasn’t entirely clear if he was speaking to Poe or Rey, but Rey had never answered Poe’s questions about her background, so Poe replied before the silence stretched on too long. “They approached me in your second year at Cambridge. They suspected a professor there, and I was just an informant for another spy, at first. But it turns out, I’m skilled at more than just tying cravats in the latest style.”

He had said it lightly, never wanting Finn to think he resented him or his job, but Finn looked at him sharply. “I have long known your talents extend beyond that, Poe, but I’ve always told myself our relationship allowed you freedoms to pursue those talents that you wouldn’t have otherwise.  I didn’t realize how right I was.”

Poe reached a hand across the coach and caressed Finn’s knee. “I have never found my work for you anything less than stimulating.”

Finn smiled briefly at him, then returned to his watch. “And you, Rey?”

Poe expected Rey to deflect, as she had always done with him. But she clasped her hands together tightly and began, “My favorite person in the world died at the hands of Napoleon, or his troops anyway.” She seemed like she wanted to go on, but couldn’t find the words, and Poe took one of her hands in his, making a noise of inquiry to ask her permission this time. She nodded, and Poe rubbed against the seam lines of her gloves in comfort. Finn watched for a moment, then held his own hand out. Rey took it, and Poe was struck by how right the three of them felt together for a moment. Rey wasn’t crying, Poe didn’t think she was the type of woman to cry except under the most extreme circumstances, but she took a deep breath and continued. “My brother, George. He was so proud to join the Royal army against the threat of Napoleon. He’s been gone six years now. I put on my mourning, and then my father and I went on a trip to the Continent, then farther, to India, where I found someone who would teach a woman how to defend herself. I trained for five years, although I didn’t know at first that I was training myself to become a spy. I did a little work for the British government while in India, in disguise of course. When I came back a few weeks ago, I found a contact in the War Department, disguised myself as a man again, and volunteered my services.  I was beginning to establish myself when I came across what looked like a crooked deal for information in an alleyway.” Her lips tipped up a bit at Poe, and she released both hands, back to herself again.

Poe raised his eyebrows.  It showed a lot of courage and grit to persevere in this secret life for five years, and after doing the quick calculation in his head, Poe realized she’d started when she was only fifteen. Rey must be very good at secret keeping indeed if she’d managed to keep her training in India a secret. “My father thought I was going to university every day,” Rey said, as if answering his unspoken question.

Finn sat up sharply, keeping himself in the shadows of the coach’s curtains, but looking intently outwards. “A coach just pulled up.  It’s got the Imperatum Primum crest on the side.”

Poe angled himself so he could get a view as well, just in time to see a pair of tall, thin men descend from the black coach.

“Damn,” Finn muttered. “They’re wearing masks.” Both men wore black domino masks, the kind one might see at a masquerade ball. As they watched, the men ascended the stairs, greeted by several guards, before saying something to the door, presumably a password of some kind. The door opened, and both men swept in.

Over the next half hour, the same thing happened several more times, no one ever slipping and revealing their identity. Poe could sense everyone in his coach growing frustrated. He broke the silence. “I’m going to poke around the back, see if I can find any weaknesses in their security.  It’s obvious we aren’t going to learn their identities this way.”

Finn's eyebrows drew together in concern. “I thought we'd just be watching tonight.”

“Change of plans,” Poe said breezily, not wanting to point out that the reason he felt safe leaving Finn behind was because Rey was here as well. Poe crossed to Finn’s side of the coach, tracing a finger down Finn’s strong jaw. “Trust me, love, I'll be fine.” He pressed his lips to Finn’s, intending a quick press, but he felt Finn grab his curls and take the kiss deeper.

Finn finally released him, staring deep into Poe’s eyes. “I'll trust you to come back in one piece, Poe, and no exceptions.”

Poe had to turn away from the intensity of Finn’s eyes before he decided to abandon the plan altogether, and found himself trying to interpret the look of interest on Rey’s face, instead. She looked a little flushed, and Poe allowed himself to ponder _that_ for about two beats before he was exiting the carriage.

Nonchalantly, Poe meandered around the block, carefully casing the building. He was immediately discouraged; he’d have been surprised if Buckingham Palace was better guarded. Sentry men at every post, every window, every possible weakness. He slipped into an alley that both hid him and allowed him to do his own reconnaissance. He tried to establish timings of sentry changes, patterns, anything that might help him on a return trip.  What gentlemen’s club needed such a plethora of security, really?  What exactly were they hiding within First Order?

According to Poe’s pocket watch, he’d been observing for about a half an hour when a coach drove up, and a man descended. “Scotch delivery,” he heard the man say gruffly to the nearest guard. The guard, a rather forbidding fellow made even more so by an eye patch, removed a key from his pocket and opened the back gate, allowing the delivery man, now hefting a substantial crate, through to the servant’s entrance.  

It was slight, but it was a weakness. One Poe was already figuring out how to exploit.  He slipped deeper into the alley, climbing over the fence at the end and taking a circuitous route back to the hired coach. When he climbed inside, he saw that Rey and Finn were sitting on the same side of the coach now, and they jumped apart a little guiltily when they saw him.  Interesting, indeed.

He signaled the driver to be on their way, then quickly relayed what he’d observed from the back. “It should be easy enough to replicate. I’ll come back tomorrow night with a brandy delivery.” Finn’s eyes looked concerned again, and Poe reached out to touch him. “Love, you’re going to have to trust that I have the skills to do these things,” he said to Finn.

Finn looked down. “I know it’s your job, but I can’t help it. Poe, I don’t think you realize that your death would tear my life apart.” Rey set a comforting hand on Finn’s arm.

Poe was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. “I think I’m just beginning to realize that, actually, Finn.” He moved, positioning himself on Finn’s lap, circling an arm around his shoulders. “I always thought that if I pushed you into marriage, you’d be able to find a replacement, however meager, for me. I knew that we couldn’t go on like this forever.”

Finn was shaking his head. “I don’t want a replacement for you. I want you.” He buried his head in Poe’s neck, Poe shivering when he began to place sweet kisses there.

“I don’t want to be a replacement,” Rey said, and they both looked at her. Her eyes were filled with a longing that took Poe’s breath away. _We could share him_ , she’d said before.

Poe looked back at Finn, saw confusion, a battle, in his eyes. But before they could explore the possibilities, the coach pulled up at Rey’s home, and she was slipping out of the coach and into the shadows.

Finn laid his head on Poe’s shoulder. “That woman confuses me, Poe.”

Poe traced patterns on Finn’s chest. “I’m not quite sure what to make of her, either, or what to make of the three of us. I suppose we’ll just have to give it some more time, yes?” Before Finn could answer, Poe captured his mouth, feeling the urgency of before.

The next night found Poe in a rented cart, a stock of brandy he’d paid dearly for, and the simple costume of a docks delivery man. He pulled up behind Imperatum Primum, signaling to Eye Patch. “Brandy delivery,” he said, imitating the gruff voice of the man the night before.

Eye Patch’s one showing eye sharpened its gaze at Poe. “This wasn’t scheduled.”

Poe had already gotten out of the cart, hefted the box. “I’m just following orders, man.  And I’ll be expecting payment.”

Eye Patch glared at him, but turned to open the gate. Poe continued into the house. The servant’s entrance led to a hallway, then a bustling kitchen, and someone gestured for him to take his box through to the next room, which turned out to be a storeroom. He walked through the kitchen, slipping back out into the hallway, trying to decide how much longer he could be gone before Eye Patch came looking for him. He crept up the hallway, which led to the front entrance. And there, just a few feet away from him, was a book, most probably of members’ names and attendance dates, or maybe dues owed. He waited, weighing his options, but before he could make a decision, he felt another presence in the hallway, and turned around to make an excuse about looking for the steward to get his payment. Before any words could leave his mouth, Eye Patch, who was a good half a head taller than Poe and outweighed him by several stone, swung a huge fist into Poe’s face, and everything went black.


	5. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe's been captured by First Order. Can he escape by himself, or will he need help from Finn and Rey?
> 
> CW: There is some torture and violence in this chapter. I wouldn't describe either as "graphic" so I'm not changing the archive warning, but just as a heads up.

Poe came back to his faculties before he opened his eyes, using the cover to try and sense all that he could about his current situation without alerting anyone who may be watching him. He was seated, and his hands bound behind him. He moved his wrists and fingers minutely, testing the strength of the bond and finding no slack. He heard another presence in the room, confirmed when the person heaved a bored sigh. Probably a guard. The air smelled stale, a faint overtone of earth on top of everything else. He was probably in a cellar or basement.  Figuring he’d learned all he could, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. The movement caused his one guard - not Eye Patch, and Poe figured he’d call this one Butch, because why the hell not - to stir, rising to his feet and knocking on the room’s one door. 

Poe glanced around.  He’d been right. The room had no windows, and the ground beneath him was dirt. Near him, he saw boxes and crates of wine bottles. Wine cellar at Imperatum Primum? In front of him, the door opened only a fraction, and Butch said, “Tell Ren he’s awake.”

Poe put in the appearance of waiting patiently, while he attempted to loosen the bonds at his wrists, stretching, pulling and twisting in small movements. To cover his actions, he smiled at Butch, who had retaken his seat by the door. “I think there’s been a mistake, sir.”

Butch sneered at him. “Shuddup.”

“Listen, you guys can keep the brandy. I’ll figure out how to get the money elsewhere, and I’ll never bother you again.”

Butch glared, then stood again, moving in front of Poe with his arms crossed. “I said, shuddup.”

Poe affected a pained face. “C’mon man, I’ve got a wife and kids who are expecting me.”

At this, Butch grinned. “You ain’t got nothing or no one waiting for you, spy.”

Shit. How did they find out Poe was a spy? Poe remembered to look shocked. “Spy? Spy?” He sputtered. “I’m just trying to make a living, man.”

The door opened, and a man taller even than Butch walked into the room. “Silence,” the man said. Poe narrowed his eyes at the newcomer, but with his face covered by a black domino mask, there were little distinguishing marks Poe could make out except for the long wavy black hair. He was thin for his height, and covered himself from head to toe in the latest trends, entirely of black.  Poe considered this. Was that jacket made by Mr. Moloney from Pine Street? It looked similar to something he’d seen there when ordering clothing for Finn.

The man moved forward. “Don’t waste your time spinning lies, spy. What’s your name?  Are you The Falcon?  Maybe the Hood? What about the Reaper?” He laughed, the sound vicious. “And have you ever stopped to consider how ridiculous your names sound?”

Poe smiled grimly at him. Well, at least he didn’t know Poe’s identity. “Maybe introductions are in order. Please, after you.” He bowed as much as he was able given the circumstances.

“Were that it would be that easy,” the man said. “But let me humor you. My name is Kylo Ren. And you are?”

Poe continued to grin. “You’re right, it’s not going to be that easy. And who are you to judge spy names ridiculous?” 

Kylo eyes flared in anger, but then he smiled back, indicating Butch. “I imagine, though, that with certain pressure applied, Leslie and I will be able to extract what I need from you.”

“Really?  Leslie?” Poe laughed, then braced himself for the blow to his face, which split his lip.

Kylo smirked. “Leslie doesn’t like it when people make light of his name.” Kyle unrolled a cloth with metal instruments. “Now I want to know two things: who you are, and what the War Department knows about First Order. And between the two of us,” indicating Leslie again, “I think you’ll find us very persuasive.” Kylo picked up a small knife, and Poe braced himself.

He wasn’t quite sure how long it went on, knew it was a bad thing that he couldn’t keep track of time, but kept his mind from breaking by continuing to work the knot binding him. Leslie held him still while Kylo made shallow cuts across his arms, stomach, until it seemed like Kylo was trying to do him in via death by a thousand cuts.

At some point, a red haired man in a domino mask opened the door, aiming an annoyed look at Kylo. “We haven’t got all night, you know.  Either get what you need from him soon, or dispatch with him.” 

Kylo curled his lip and turned to reply. “Calm yourself and make sure the patrons are having a nice time, Hux. Do your job.” He turned back to Poe, in his annoyance cutting deeper than he had before.

Poe yelled and feigned passing out, and felt the knot finally loosen beneath his nimble fingers, years of cravat design paying off. He waited a minute, then opened his eyes blearily, whispering.

“What did you say?” Kylo asked, leaning in.  

Poe whispered again, and Kylo leaned further. Really, the man made it too easy. In a matter of moments, he’d headbutted Kylo and armed himself with his knives. He threw one at Leslie with deadly accuracy, but couldn’t take the time to think about it. He turned, smashing a stumbling Kylo into a box of wine bottles. He grabbed one of the bottles and bashed Kylo over the head with it, and the man crumpled. Poe knelt, removing the mask from Kylo’s face, expecting to see something very revelatory, but it was no one he recognized. He searched Kylo’s person for any other pieces of evidence, found a journal that he’d page through later but nothing else, and placed the domino mask over his own face. He was in no condition to fight his way out of here, so he hurriedly rebuttoned his shirt and stole Kylo’s jacket as well, thinking that he could blend in with the patrons if he could just get upstairs.

In the hallway, though, he came across another guard, this one pulling a pistol on him, and Poe rushed him before he could take aim. The bullet went wild, and Poe grabbed the gun from him, hitting him in the face with the butt of it. It was a short run from there to the stairs, but as Poe began to climb them, Eye Patch appeared at the top, grinning evilly down at him. Poe hesitated, trapped, and flashed his knife at Eye Patch, challenging him.

Eye Patch was beginning to descend when his face showed momentary surprise, then he toppled over and down the stairs.  Poe had a chance to see Rey and Finn, Rey wielding her staff, before Eye Patch crashed into him. He groped blindly for something, anything that would mean not taking this fall with Eye Patch, and finally found a purchase, as gravity pulled Eye Patch off of Poe’s body and deposited him at the bottom of the staircase, where his neck bent in a way that made Poe want to throw up. He looked back up at what he’d caught a hold on, and realized it was Finn’s hand. 

And now Finn was hauling him up, helping him up the stairs, and they were running, Rey on point as Finn practically dragged Poe out. Poe’s energy was fading fast, but when they breached the servant’s entrance and three guards descended on them, he managed to place a well-timed kick that forced one of the guards into the path of Rey’s staff, while Finn grappled with another. He turned to help Finn, grabbing the man from behind and pinning his arms so Finn could take him out. By the time Finn and Poe turned back around, the two other guards lay at Rey’s feet as she panted over them. They ran for the gate, slamming it open as they heard yells behind them, and then Finn was swinging him up into an unmarked coach, shouting at the driver, and they were speeding away.

Poe collapsed onto the bench, taking up an entire side of the coach. Finn knelt in the space between, beginning to check the extent of Poe’s injuries as he muttered a string of very inventive ways he was going to kill Poe for scaring him. Or maybe not kill Poe? Poe was having hard time understanding. “Going to tie you up so you can never leave, no, never again, Poe, I promise you, you’ll be sorry you made me worry- Jesus Christ, Poe!” The loud curse snapped Poe back again, enough to look down at Finn peeling back his blood soaked shirt.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Poe managed, letting his head fall back again. The world was getting gray around the edges now. He felt a cool hand, a feminine hand, on his brow, and tried to look blearily up at Rey.

“Shhhh,” she soothed, and Poe let the black take him.

He woke again when Finn was setting him down on the chaise lounge in his study, Rey hurrying to the wash basin to pour water. “Here,” Finn said, taking off his shirt and handing it to her. “Rip this up and use it.” Finn looked down at Poe, and Poe tried to smile at him. “It’s okay, love,” Finn said.  We’re just going to get you cleaned up. You were right, nothing too deep or serious, except for this one slice.”

“Did I really miss you carrying me?”

Rey came over with several wet strips of shirt, handing one to Finn and bathing Poe’s face with another. “We can recreate it later, maybe, Falcon.” Poe closed his eyes at the blissful feeling of Rey and Finn washing his injuries, even if it did hurt.

“The jacket, and the journal in it.  They’re evidence.”

“Shhhh,” Rey said again.

Poe didn’t like it though, this silence. He needed to hear the voices of the people that had protected him, the people whom he loved. Shit, when had Rey joined that category? He didn’t think it was really the same way he loved Finn, or maybe not yet, and his brain was having a hard time wrapping itself around that concept.

“That’s the adrenaline talking, Falcon.”

Shit, did he say that all aloud?  “How did you get in? How long was I gone?” Poe said, hoping to distract them.

Finn’s smooth voice answered him. “It’s still the night you left. Or the morning, I suppose, now. When you didn’t come back out of the building, Rey and I-”

“Wait, you and Rey were there?”

Finn’s voice sounded tight now, as if to hold in the anger. “You have partners now, Poe.  Why in Hell would you attempt this alone?” He accidentally swiped rather hard at one of the cuts, and Poe winced. Finn’s hand was immediately steadier, gentler. “I’m sorry.”

Poe opened his eyes, winced again as he felt the beginnings of a black eye. “No, I’m sorry.” He struggled to sit up, as if to prove that he wasn’t worthless. “Whatever they’re doing there, at First Order, this whole case, it’s throwing me off. I haven’t been thinking straight.”

Finn looked as if he wanted to cradle Poe into his arms, but was too mindful of his injuries. “That’s probably my fault.”

Rey balled up her bloody strip of shirt. “Or mine.”

Poe shook his head slowly. “I think that you two are the solution, not the problem.” They both stared at him, and he felt his frustration grow. “You two  _ must _ feel this. I can’t be the only one.”

Finn and Rey shared a glance, and Poe wanted to shout in triumph at the speculation in both of their eyes. “You should kiss her, again,” Poe said, and Finn looked at him, startled, but interested.

Finn looked at Rey, who was nodding. “You should kiss me again.” 

They edged closer together, and Poe said quietly to Finn, “Not like you do with me. Softer. She’s new to this.” Rey looked like she wanted to argue with Poe about his wording, but then Finn was pressing a soft kiss to her lips, and Poe was holding his breath.

He reached out to stroke Rey’s jaw. “Open your lips for him a little, Red. Let him in.” She complied, and Poe realized he felt heady with power, watching the other two follow his instructions. Finn lifted his head, a little breathless, looking at Poe expectantly. “Did you like it?” Poe asked.

Finn considered this, as Finn always considered things, which was one of the many reasons Poe loved him. “She’s softer than you. It’s different, but nice.”

Poe turned to ask Rey the same thing, but Rey beat him by throwing her arms around Finn’s neck and bringing their mouths together once again. Poe chuckled, happy despite the dozens of little singing hurts making themselves known on his body. He was almost too distracted to hear the groan of footsteps on the stairway outside the study.

“Someone’s coming, probably the Countess,” Poe said, tapping them both on their shoulders to break them apart. He stood, wincing, and limped to his spot in the shadows. Rey and Finn had enough time to shove the bloody rags under the chaise lounge and stand, Finn still shirtless, both fidgeting and looking guilty, which Poe thought was cute as hell, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from remarking on it.

The Countess swept into the room in her robe and gown, hair piled on top of her head and tucked under a cap. “Finn, what are you doing up so late?” she began, then brought herself up short at the sight of Rey. Luckily the cloak Rey wore hid her masculine garb.

“Mother, good evening. Rey has just consented to marriage by special license.” Poe felt his mouth drop open, was surprised but proud when Rey managed not to react but just nodded along with Finn.

The Countess’ lips formed a thin line, but then she smiled. “I’m so glad to hear this is a love match, my dear,” she said as she crossed the room and brushed a kiss across Finn’s cheek.  “I thought that maybe you weren’t inclined that way and I’d have to drag you kicking and screaming to your wedding night.”

“Mother!” Finn gasped.

She turned to Rey. “Good job, my dear. Capital business. Glad you could be the one to bring my boy up to scratch.” Rey was as red as a tomato, and was able to only nod again.

“Try to be a little more discreet, Finn. It wouldn’t do to have a scandal. Well, goodnight, then, and I’ll let you get back to your business.” With that, the Countess left the room again, and Poe came out of his hiding spot.

“Do you think she suspects anything about us, Finn?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t put it past her.” Finn turned to Rey. “I really should escort you home.” Rey nodded, it seemed like she was stuck in that mode, and Finn turned to place a very gentle kiss on Poe’s mouth, minding the split lip. “You’ll be alright getting to your room by yourself?”

Poe pulled Finn into a light embrace, letting himself rest his head on the Earl’s shoulder for just a moment, touched by the care Finn showed to him and Rey. It was like he could see the three of them as cogs in the same great machine, beginning slowly to work themselves into unison. “I love you,” he said in answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mothers, always embarrassing.


	6. Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe, Finn and Rey follow the clues to try and stop First Order's ultimate plan.

Poe stirred at the light touch through his hair. “I'm sorry, love, but I need you to come to my study.” Poe's eyes popped open at the sound of Finn’s soft voice, immediately panicking because his first thought was that he's overslept in Finn’s bed, which was one of their rules that could not be broken. He struggled to sit up, to flee, but Finn’s voice calmed him. “It’s okay, you’re in your room.”

Poe paused, realizing that he was, indeed, in his own quarters. “You shouldn’t be here,” he told Finn. Another rule.

Finn brushed that aside, checking Poe’s wounds from mere hours before. “We should get Cook to make her special balm. Nothing looks infected yet, but with so many cuts, it will be nigh impossible to avoid.”

“Great minds, and all that.” Poe indicated a small cup on the bedside table. “I’m going to owe her sweets. She was ferocious when I woke her early.” He reached for the cup, set on reapplying the balm and getting dressed, but Finn’s hand beat him there.

With his other, he gently pushed Poe back onto the mattress. “Allow me,” he murmured. Poe winced at the cold sensation of the balm, the medicinal sting then soothed by the warmth of Finn’s hand.

“Are you still angry with me?” Poe asked, feeling open and vulnerable.

Finn closed his eyes briefly, though his hand kept massaging Poe’s stomach. After a few moments, he opened them again, looking down at Poe with a fierceness that Poe felt in his bones. “I’m angry that you thought to go by yourself, or rather, you didn’t think to bring me, or Rey.” He ran a hand over Poe’s cheek. “And I’m still getting used to this, the idea that you go out every night and put yourself in danger. So no, I’m not angry at you, Poe. And I know you cannot promise that you’ll be safe. But I need you to promise me you’ll not be such an imbecile in the future.”

Poe reached up to lay his hand over Finn’s, squeezing. “I promise.”

Finn smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well then, Rey is taking breakfast with my mother. They’re sorting out wedding details. We’ve set the date for a week hence.”

Poe considered this. “I’m not quite sure who to feel sorry for, the Countess or Rey.” He sat up, stiffly, then forced himself to his feet, moving to his small chest of drawers to get dressed. “That was quick thinking, last night.”

“I may not be a spy, but as an Earl there are certain protections I can offer, at least to Rey.” Poe decided against a white shirt lest his wounds open, pulling out a black one meant for mourning instead. “When the Countess is done with her, she’ll come to my study and we can look at the evidence you found last night. And you can tell us what happened.”

Before parting, Finn to head back to the main part of the house and Poe to go down the servant stairs and try and coax something to eat out of Cook, Finn pulled him close, simply breathing him in, then released him just a quickly.

In the study, Finn had placed the jacket and journal on his desk. Poe set down his plate, grabbing a slice of bread and cheese, and walked around the desk, examining without touching at first. “Have you looked inside the journal?”

Finn looked sheepish. “Yes, this morning. It’s in code.”

Poe was finishing his bread when Rey entered the room, looking harried. “That took less time than expected,” Poe said.

Rey crossed the room, standing on tip toes to brush a kiss across first Poe’s cheek, then Finn’s. “I got rid of her by asking her to find me a gown and accoutrements. She’s off to shop, hopefully distracted for the whole day.”

Poe experimentally touched the small of her back. She smiled. “You’re too good, Red.”

“I know. Now, what can we glean from this? What do you remember?” She leant over the desk, then picked up the journal, paging through it. “It’s not a cipher I recognize, you?” She asked, handing the journal over to Poe.

The code was written in a neat, precise hand. But sadly, no, he didn’t. “Anything in the pockets of the jacket?”

Finn shook his head. “Just the tag marking it the work of Mr. Moloney.” Poe felt a little flash of pride as a valet, having correctly identified the tailor.

“It’s more than we had, but less than I hoped for,” Poe admitted. He sat, indicating that they should both do so as well, and ran through his tale of the previous night. “I only heard two names of note: the man with the long black hair was Kylo Ren, and the man with the short red hair was Hux. Are those familiar to either of you?” Finn and Rey shook their heads, disappointed. “I figured they were code names anyway,” Poe replied.

“So, what’s the next step?” Finn asked, looking a little defeated.

Poe smiled widely at him. “Finn, as your valet, I feel it necessary to have you confirm your measurements with Mr. Moloney. Wouldn’t want to order something that doesn’t fit, after all.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “I get to go undercover?”

Rey laughed. “Well, you’re going as yourself, aren’t you, so it’s not really undercover. Be calm, and don’t blow it.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Finn said drily, grinning at her.

Poe rose, rubbing his hands together. “I’d do it, but I’m a little conspicuous today.” Poe motioned to his bruised face and cut lip. “My beautiful face.”

“Still looks beautiful to me,” Rey said in a teasing tone, making Poe’s eyes widen.

“My dear, you do know how to keep me on my toes.”

Finn stood and crossed to him, circling an arm around his waist. “That’s one of the essential requirements for loving Poe Dameron,” he said. “I learned that long ago - never could let you get too comfortable or you’d outthink yourself.” Poe flushed. “Now, what exactly am I going to be doing at the tailor’s?”

Poe sat in the Jersey coach with Rey, hands clenched together in a nervous gesture, tapping his foot against the floor. Rey must have tired of the sound because she moved, joining Poe on his seat, and put a hand on the knee of the offending leg. “He’s going to be fine,” she said.

Poe looked at her. “If he’s not, it will have been all my fault for dragging him into this life.”

She slipped an arm around his shoulders, awkwardly, but Poe was comforted by the gesture he normally gave her. “Finn makes his own choices, you told me that.”

“Here, let’s try this,” Poe said, moving her arm down and putting his own around her. She leaned into his chest. “That’s better.”

“I’m still getting used to it,” Rey whispered. “The touching. Touching meant for love, not to disable or disarm.”

“Is it okay?”

“Is it okay that I… that I have, as the priest would say, impure thoughts and feelings about two men at the same time? I don’t know quite yet.”

“I’m not sure if any of us do yet, Red.” He placed a kiss on her bonnet.

They didn’t startle apart when Finn opened the door and climbed inside the coach, and Poe figured that was a step in the direction he saw them all going in. Finn sat across from them, grinning widely.

“So?” Poe and Rey asked simultaneously.

“So. I did exactly as you said. Go in, business as normal, get my measurements done, and casually ask after a certain jacket I’d seen my friend Hux wear at a ball the other night.”

Poe uncurled his arm from Rey and leaned forward. “What did Moloney say?”

“He was very obliging, especially with the especially large tip I slipped him, asked me to wait because he thought he had the design plate in the back. He left me right there, with his appointment book open and no one around, Poe.” Poe heard the amazement filtering through Finn’s voice.

“Yes, that’s how this is supposed to work. I feel like maybe I’ve given you an overly aggressive impression of spy work.”

“So I paged through, found an entry for a Sir John Huxley. Jacket, picked up by his man, Phasma.”

Poe narrowed his eyes. “I think I’ve met this Phasma before.”

“Do you know how to track him down?” Rey asked eagerly.

“I just might,” Poe replied. “But a better idea - Finn, did the appointment book have a direction?”

Finn grinned and held out a small slip of paper. “Yes, indeed, and now we do, too.”

They paused at home to switch the Jersey coach for an unmarked one, then parked behind the Huxley townhouse. The alley behind the row of houses was bustling with daytime activity. “He’s tall, with ice blond hair,” Poe said, all three of them peering discreetly out the coach window.

They didn’t have to wait long before a man fitting description Poe gave emerged from the servant’s entrance of the Huxley residence, and Poe stiffened in recognition. “Talked with him once while out on business for you, Finn. Hard to forget a name like Phasma.”

They watched as Phasma walked down the street. “Ready?” Poe asked. Nods from Rey and Finn greeted him. He and Finn alighted, following Phasma at a discreet distance. At the first opportunity, Poe took a side street and sprinted ahead, coming back around so that he and Finn sandwiched Phasma, now. He allowed the blonde to almost pass, then stepped in front of him, blocking his path and revealing his knife. Before Phasma could react, Finn approached behind him, and Poe knew that Phasma was now feeling a gun pressed into his back. His only reaction was to glare at Poe, narrowing his eyes as if trying to place him. Poe tipped his head to the alley nearest them, and the three of them walked steadily deeper into the shadows. It was a dead end, and in a few moments, the coach pulled up, blocking the entrance to the alley, and Rey descended, looking for all the world an elegant lady of the Ton.

“What do you want?” Phasma asked, arms crossing over his chest.

“We get to ask the questions now, Phasma,” Finn said, overeager, still riding the exhilaration from his successful meeting with the tailor. Phasma merely arched a perfect blond brow at him.

Poe pulled out the journal, opened to it to a random page. “What’s the cipher, Phasma?”

“You must be out of your minds if you think I’m going to-”

Finn brought the gun up, settling it at Phasma’s throat.

“What’s the cipher, Phasma?” Rey repeated.

Considering the torture Poe had been put through the night before, it was disgustingly easy to get Phasma to write the cipher for them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Phasma whined. “In the end, First Order will prevail. You cannot stop us. You’re too late, the plan is already set in motion.”

“What do we do with him now?” Finn asked, affecting the bored tone of the young and rich.

Rey ran down to the end of the alley, out onto the busy sidewalk. “Help! Oh, do help me! This man stole my purse!” Very little time passed before a bobby appeared alongside Rey, who by then was blubbering, putting on such a show that Poe couldn’t help but be impressed. She came down the alley with the officer, and Finn rushed to her side to comfort her.

“It’s okay now, my darling, we caught him.” The officer sized up the situation and turned to Finn, obviously picking him out as the person with the most authority.

“Can I be helpful, sir?” The bobby asked, pulling out his stick and swinging it a bit.

“That man, the blonde, stole my betrothed’s purse. Luckily my man was able to catch him. Please, arrest him so that my dear can be assured it is safe to walk the streets of London again.” Poe worried that Finn might be laying it on a bit thick, but a choked sob from Rey sold the story, and before he knew it, Phasma was sputtering, being hauled away.

When the officer and Phasma had rounded the corner, Poe turned to Finn. “I don’t know how that power doesn’t go to your head, Earl.”

“You heard Phasma,” Finn said, none of the boredom in his tone now. “We need to translate that journal now, figure out what the plan is.” The three of them ascended into the coach once more, and Poe took out a quill and ink, quickly getting the hang of the code as Finn ordered the driver to take them aimlessly around in London traffic.

The silence was tense as Finn and Rey watched him work.

Poe’s scrambling hand stopped, and he read and reread what he’d translated. Slowly, he looked up at the other two. “They’re going to overthrow the British government.” He might have laughed at the stunned looks Finn and Rey gave him if his heart didn’t feel like it was pounding in his ears.

“Napoleon is going to overthrow the British government from the inside?” sputtered Rey.

Poe shook his head. “First Order, they’re something different. I think they’ve been playing Napoleon, getting funding from him. But if they manage to wrest power, Kylo Ren is going to wield it, not Napoleon. There’s a vote today in Parliament. Some tax or such thing. The king will be there. They’re going to exterminate them all. It doesn’t say how. The journal is mostly the ramblings of a man with delusions of grandeur.”

Finn stared out the coach window at London passing by. “I can get into Parliament, I have a seat there.”

“Finn-”

“Half the gentry still like to carry their sabers around. We could rise up, overtake the invaders.”

Poe glanced at Rey, who shrugged, grimacing. “It’s the start of a plan, anyway,” she said. “Finn, do you have friends you could trust to call on for this?”

Poe fidgeted in the servant’s section of the Parliament building. He wished they had more information, the time, the method, anything to clue them in on the impending attack. Just rooms away, Finn sat with his fellow countrymen, discussing raising taxes to pay for the war against Napoleon. Rey, hooded but still encumbered by her female attire, patrolled the grounds outside. Poe could no longer stand it, and left the room to start a sweep of the building. He was losing hope of ever finding anything when he saw two men in Domino masks exit a basement room. He waited until they walked out of sight, then ducked into the room they had come out of carefully.

The room, a boiler room, was empty. A smell hit Poe’s nose, acrid and hard, and Poe already felt like passing out. A poisonous gas? Poe dragged his jacket up over his mouth, exiting the room and running for the Parliament chambers. They’d been expecting a fight, not this kind of treachery. Rey met him in the upstairs hallway. “Cover your mouth,” he yelled at her. “Gas!”

Her eyes widened. “Oh God, Finn!” She ran after him, and they burst through the Parliament doors together. The scene made Poe’s heart stop. Everywhere, the men were slumped on their desks or had fallen out of their chairs. In the middle, one man, Kylo Ren, stood triumphant, some sort of breathing apparatus over his mouth.

“We need to open all the doors,” Rey yelled, beginning to move to the other side of the room, skirting around Kylo Ren.

Ren looked at Poe. “I’m glad you could join us,” is what Poe thought he said, it was hard to tell, really, with that thing over his face.

Poe crouched and checked the pulse of the nearest Lord. Still beating. There was time. This close to the open door, he saw some of the aristocrats start to move and moan, and in the middle of the room, Kylo screamed in rage. Poe ignored him. He had to find Finn, he had to get Finn to safety, he kept searching for Finn’s body, when he felt something lift him bodily from behind and slam him into a nearby desk. “You’re ruining everything!” Kylo screamed. He loomed over Poe, tightening hands around his throat.

Poe grappled for anything he could use as a weapon, coming up with a fancy metal quill, and jammed it into Kylo’s hand. Kylo howled and released Poe, and he kicked Kylo. “What, can’t take a little stabbing after you give it out so well?”

All around Poe, the men were stirring, taking in the threat of Kylo with wide eyes. One of them managed to stand, leveling a pistol at Kylo’s chest. From behind him, Poe heard Finn’s low voice, cold. “That’s enough, Benjamin Solo.” Poe turned slightly to see Finn, alive and looking unharmed and beautiful and leaning slightly on Rey. One by one, other men in Parliament, the friends Finn had been able to warn, raised weapons against Kylo.

Kylo ripped off the mask. “My name is Kylo Ren.”

The Prime Minister stumbled to Poe. “What is the meaning of this? What’s going on?”

Poe looked to Finn, who nodded. “This man has been selling secrets to Napoleon and plotting against our government,” Poe heard Finn began as he ran back out of the chamber. Better to let gentry deal with gentry, Poe thought. He had a loose end to deal with.

Both Imperatum Primum and Sir Huxley’s townhouse showed no signs of activity. Poe raced to the docks, where he found a shipping agent that, yes, had sold a ticket to the Continent to a red haired aristocrat. Depressed, he made his way back to the Jersey townhouse, happy to find Finn and Rey in Finn’s study. Finn showed no lasting ill effects from the gas attack.

“He got away, but I suppose we’ll just have to catch him if he returns,” Poe mumbled, leaning a hip against Finn’s desk with a sigh.

Finn quirked a smile at him. “The Prime Minister and the King want to award you a medal.”

Poe laughed, feeling the heaviness around his heart lighten a little. “I’ll let the War Department deal with that. Just imagine, one of their spies being outed by his own king.”

“At least your pretty face is bashed in today, hopefully most of those aristocrats won’t remember the man who rescued them,” Rey said, joining him on Finn’s desk.

“You know the gentry. They barely take notice of servants, even the handsome- hey!” Poe laughed again as Finn broke the rules and pulled Poe off of the desk and into his lap. Poe leaned his head on Finn’s shoulder, then looked at Rey. “Come here,” he said, and she worked her way onto Finn’s lap as well. Finn groaned a bit, repositioning, then kissing Rey and Poe in succession, a quick brush across the lips.

Rey looked sternly at the two of them. “If the Countess walks in right now, you two are doing the explaining. She already thinks I’m a hussy.”

Poe reached out a hand, smoothing the wrinkles from Rey’s brow. “I declare that we get ten minutes of not worrying about it, after the last few weeks we’ve had.”

Finn kissed him again, lingering this time. “I think that sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“I am pretty brilliant. Ow, Rey! Stop!” Poe laughed as Rey poked one of his wounds.

Her eyes widened. “I’m so sorry! Oh my goodness, Poe, did I hurt you?”

“Come here and find out,” Poe whispered, leaning up to take Rey’s mouth in a sweet, slow kiss.

“Just ten minutes?” Finn asked huskily, and Poe buried his head in Finn’s neck while Rey took his mouth.

“I can get a lot accomplished in ten minutes,” Poe replied, pressing a kiss under Finn’s ear and feeling his shiver.

Rey broke off the kiss, her eyes eager on Poe’s. “Show me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now, but with Hux on the loose, will the Falcon be able to help Finn and Rey celebrate their honeymoon?!?!?!?
> 
> (Dramatics aside, that's all I have planned for now, but shout if you'd like more!)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and kudos are appreciated if you think I deserve it!
> 
> I'm @animalasaysrauer on tumblr and I love to chat there, too!


End file.
